All I Ask Of You
by TheInitiated94
Summary: Isabella Calhoun has lived in The New World for a year. Her father warned her to never go into the woods, for many dangers reside there. Against her father's wishes, she ventures into the forest and meets a certain Native. Despite his simplicity, there is a lot more to him than she assumes. *Rated 'M' for later chapters.*
1. Nighttime Sharpens

**I can't believe I'm making another freaking story when I already have multiple open. **

**Brain, why must you be so imaginative?**

**Anyways, I decided that there aren't enough fan fictions about Connor Kenway, whom I absolutely adore. So, of course, this idea comes to my head (in a dream actually), and MY BRAIN WON'T LEAVE IT ALONE. Because I have other stories going on, this won't be updated quite as fast. **

**Official Disclaimer: I only own my OC, Isabella Calhoun, and my own little plot. I do not own anything Assassin's Creed related, nor do I claim to. **

**This will be following the game VERY LOOSLY. I REPEAT: VERY LOOSLY. Please do not come here to flame about how "This is wrong", or "This never happened". I don't want to hear it. This is MY story. Okay? Rant over.**

**Warning/Apology: If you are Native American, some things that are said in this chapter may offend you. I'm sorry if that happens, but I only use it because it's what happened in history. I would not put it in my story if it didn't have a point. So I apologize in advance if you are offended. **

**Now, without further ado, enjoy. PLEASE review and let me know what you think. If I don't get enough positive feedback, I will discontinue it. So if you really like it, let me know. Also let me know if this is complete horse shit. I want to hear both. But I worked _really_ hard on it, so please do it kindly. Thank you. **

**Chapter One**

Twenty year old Isabella stepped out of her house one early July morning onto the busy streets of town. She groaned internally at the heat that immediately surrounded her body, threatening to suffocate her as she walked. The young woman just moved to The New World from London, England one year ago. She loved her new home and all it had to offer, but one thing she didn't think she could ever get used to was the _heat_.

"Aye!" Her neighbor, an old man named Samuel Farnsworth, called out to her. He had himself perched on his front step, rum bottle in hand. His face and clothes were caked in a layer of dirt hand dust. However, despite his appearance, he was one of the kindest men she had ever met. "Good mornin', lass!"

Isabella smiled and waved. "Good morning, Mr. Farnsworth. And how are you this fine day?" Her flawless British accent very much differed from the cockney accent the old man possessed.

Samuel gave a kind smile. "Can't complain, lassie. How's yer ol' man?"

"I'm just headed off to see him now," she said as she walked closer to her beloved neighbor. "I haven't seen him in some time. He leaves before I wake, and returns when I'm already asleep."

He cackled, shaking his head. "Sounds like him."

Isabella's musical laugh floated through the air. "That it does. Well, I must be off. You take care of yourself now, Samuel." The young woman called over her shoulder as she walked in the direction of her father's tavern. "Don't forget to bathe!"

Samuel gave another laugh. "What would I do without you, lass?"

Isabella's rosy red lips smiled in return as she continued down the street, waving and saying hello to the people that she was acquainted with. The young woman wasn't hard to pick out in a crowd. With her fair skin, white-blonde hair, warm caramel eyes, rosy cheeks, and a personality that matched her outward beauty, people would instantly take a liking to her. They would be drawn in by her angelic features, and then trapped by her kind heart.

The blonde woman walked into her father's tavern smiling at his wary form behind the bar. "Hello, Father."

John Calhoun, a big man with peppered hair but still good enough looks to match his daughter's, walked out from behind the bar with his arms stretched out to Isabella. "There's my morning star." He took her face in his broad hands and kissed both cheeks. "How are you, dear?" John asked, his blue eyes sparkling in earnest.

"I am well, Father. Although," Bella frowned, "I miss you."

John sighed and made his way back around the bar. Although it was before lunch, there were still the few drinkers who would come in the mornings that John had to attend to. "I know, love. I'm trying. With your mother not here to help..." the big man looked off into nothingness, as if relishing in an old memory. Isabella's mother died while giving birth to her, so she never met the woman, but her father always did well telling her about every memory.

His eyes suddenly snapped back to life as he shrugged his shoulders. "Times are hard, darling."

Isabella smiled sadly. "I know father, but if you could just-"

"Oi!" A young drunk interrupted Bella from the back of the room, already struggling to even sit upright in his chair. "Another round then, if you will, sir!"

John furrowed his brow. "Don't you think you've had enough there, lad? It's only eleven in the morning!"

The drunk gave John a sarcastic look. "Who's payin' who then, aye?"

John sighed. "Alright then, just be patient." The man reached across the bar and set his hand down on Bella's with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, love. I know you're lonely."

The young woman patted his hand. "I know, Father. How about I make us dinner tonight?"

"'Ello?" The drunk raved. "I ain't gettin' any younger 'ere!"

John growled. "Come off it, man! You've just about run me dry of my alcohol!" He leaned across the bar and kissed his daughter on the cheek. "Dinner sounds lovely, darling. Ill be there."

"Promise?"

John paused before answering. "I'll be there, darling. Now go on, then. Go to the market and pick up the supplies to make supper." Isabella didn't get a chance to answer before her father was off, so she showed her own way out of the tavern.

_Well_, she thought sadly to herself as she walked into the summer heat once more, _at least he didn't promise._

* * *

Isabella sat at her dinner table alone later on that evening. A part of her wanted to be shocked and mortified that her own father stood her up, but another part of her didn't expect any more from him. Ever since they moved to The New World he has engrossed himself in his work and left Bella to her own devices. The only rule that she had was that she was never to go into the woods by herself.

"There are savages," her father had told her seriously. "Colored people. They live off the land like animals and they act like animals. They cannot be trusted."

The first thing that came to Isabella's mind was doubt. Was there seriously people out there who were so dangerous? She didn't think it were possible. People acting like animals?

Hogwash!

The young woman sadly finished her plate of cold food. She had given her father an hour before she finally decided to eat, and yet there is still no sign of him. The blonde wasn't sure how much more she could take of her father's shenanigans, but then again, she didn't really have much of a choice.

After Isabella's plate was bare, she made her father's plate for when he got home and then began to clean up the rest. She couldn't help but feel greatly disappointed in her father, and slightly neglected.

The sun was just beginning to set as the last of the dinner mess was put away causing the heat outside to cool off significantly. Isabella decided to take advantage of the drop in temperature and go on a horseback ride. She quickly threw on her riding breaches, boots, and shirt and put up her long blonde locks into a ponytail for the ride. After walking outside to her backyard to tack up her palomino, Sunny, she was off.

Isabella rode to the outskirts of town so that she would have more room to let Sunny gallop around. She laughed and encouraged the horse with soft whispers, making Sunny's ears twitch back snd forth to listen to his master.

The blonde made it to the outskirts of the woods and she gently pulled Sunny to a stop, eyeing the tree line warily. Her brown orbs narrowed and her ears strained to hear any sound.

"Seems harmless," Isabella said thoughtfully. She looked up at the sky and noticed that there was still a while before it would get completely dark out, so, against her father's warnings, she gave Sunny a little nudge with her heels and they made their way towards the path. As they furthered into the woods, there were no signs or sounds of these "savages" her father had told her of. It was full of peace and tranquility.

Isabella quite liked it.

There was a sudden howl from a wolf in the distance, as if the woods were challenging her judgement. Sunny whinnied and took a few warning steps backwards, his ears flattening on his head. "Woah, boy," Isabella whispered, patting him reassuringly on the neck. "They are far away from us. You're safe, my love." Sunny hesitated before continuing down the path once more, trusting the word of his beloved master.

More time passed and it was beginning to get dark to the point where it was hard to see ten feet in front of her, so Isabella turned Sunny back around to the direction of home. They didn't get much further when a twig snapped, spooking Sunny into rearing up. "Woah, Sunny!" Isabella said as soothingly as possible. Her words had no affect, and Sunny reared up roughly one more. Isabella cried out as she lost her balance and fell off her horse backwards, hitting the ground with a pained grunt.

"Sunny!" Isabella panicked as said horse took off into the direction of home, leaving Bella on the ground. "Dammit!" She hissed, slamming her fist onto the ground.

"A lady should not speak in such a way."

Isabella screamed and whipped around to the direction of the voice, finding a big man in white robes and hood leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed over his chest, and although the hood casted a shadow over his eyes, she could see a smirk playing at his full lips. She noticed also that his hands and chin were of a darker shade, almost like copper. She had never seen such a skin tone before. He wasn't black, but he wasn't white either.

Isabella grunted as she pushed her bruised body to stand up, trying her hardest not to let it show on her face. "And who are you to determine how a lady should or should not speak?"

The smirk deepened on his lips and he pushed himself off the tree. Isabella instinctively took a step back earning a chuckle from the man. He stepped into the dim light of the moon and she was able to see more features if she strained her eyes. The man had a firm jaw and a straight nose and big brown eyes. He was, to her dismay, quite handsome.

After observing the man as much as she could, Isabella's eyes widened in fear when she made the realization of who, or rather what, he was. She took another few steps back until her back hit the tree. "I know what you are."

The man's brow furrowed. "What am I?"

"You're...you're a _savage_!"

A look of hurt crossed his face for a split second before disappearing. "And who are you to determine me as a savage? You do not know me, _yakon:kwe_ (woman)."

Isabella's body shook in fear, and she suddenly felt very foolish. The Indian was right. She did not know him, yet she was standing here fearing him as if he had the black plague. She swallowed in attempt to moisten her suddenly dry throat. "M-my father told me of your kind," she whispered so softly, she wondered if he even heard.

He did.

The Indian's face turned into a scowl, but he made no advance toward her. "So you are determining who I am based on another's word?"

Tears filled Isabella's eyes. How could she be so dense? "I'm...I'm sorry. You're right." She pulled herself together and took a brave step forward, holding out her hand. "My name is Isabella Calhoun. What is yours?"

He eyed her hand warily before reaching out and giving it a firm shake. "Connor."

_So he is aware of our greeting customs, _she thought, _He must spend time around whites_. "Connor? That's not what expected." Isabella could've slapped herself. He must think her incredibly unintelligent with the way she was acting. _Wait_, she thought, _why would I care what he thinks of me?_

Connor smirked. "It was given to me. My true name is Ratonhnhaké:ton." Isabella gave him a blank stare. "Exactly."

The young woman cleared her throat. "Um...well...my horse spooked off so I should go make sure he made it home." She walked away before he could answer but then stopped suddenly, not remembering which direction she came from.

Connor watched on the pretty woman with amusement as she walked in different directions, obviously trying to remember where she came from. He took the time to admire how her white-blonde hair shimmered in the moonlight, and how her ruby lips pouted in frustration. He had been into town many times and seen many white women, but she was by far the most unique of them all. He had never seen her hair color before. "Are you lost?"

"No," Isabella said stubbornly as she continued to look off into the dark. "I just...I think I came from this way..." She walked in the direction and stopped when she realized she was wrong again. The woman stomped her foot in anger and sat on the ground, crossing her legs in front of her and her arms over her chest. She let out a frustrated sigh, still refusing to ask Connor for help.

Connor chuckled and walked up, sitting down next to her. Even though Isabella didn't react to his presence, he noticed her watching him with the corner of her eye. "I could take you back to your home." Connor surprised himself with his words. If it were anyone else he would've just walked away and left them to themselves, but for some reason, it didn't seem like the right thing to do with her.

Isabella sighed. "You cannot," her lyrical voice drifted into the air. "My father isn't exactly...fond of your kind."

Connor nodded shortly. _Typical_, he thought sourly. "Then let me take you to the edge of the woods. You can find your way from there."

Isabella's brow furrowed and she looked at him. "Why are you helping me?"

The innocent question angered the Assassin. "Despite what you have heard of my people, we are not..._savages_. I am not about to leave a defenseless woman in the dark."

"_Defenseless_? I'll have you know-"

Connor rolled his eyes. "I did not mean offense, _yakon:kwe _(woman)."

Isabella huffed in annoyance. "Alright. Lead the way, then, if you will."

The Native stood and offered a hand to the woman to help her stand and she reluctantly accepted. They walked next to one another in silence for a few minutes before Isabella grew uncomfortable and awkward, deciding to speak up. "So, how old are you?"

"Age is not something I keep track of," he said without looking at her.

"Well, how old do you _think_ you are, then?"

Connor paused to think. "Twenty-four." Isabella blinked in surprise, and he happened to notice her reaction even though he wasn't looking in her direction. "Surprised?"

"Well, yes," the woman said honestly. "You seem older."

He didn't answer for a while. "How old are you?"

"Twenty." Connor looked at her and smirked, earning a scowl from Isabella. "Surprised?" She mocked.

"Well, yes," he said, his face growing serious. "You seem younger." Her mouth gaped and he threw back his head letting out a genuine laugh.

Isabella tried to remain angry, but she found she really liked his laugh. Her cheeks warmed at the thought and she turned her attention forward in embarrassment, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding when she saw the tree-line. She quickened her pace and the Native followed suit without trouble.

When they exited the forest, she turned towards him awkwardly. "I must thank you."

Connor looked at her, wordless. The warmth on her cheeks grew hotter so each passing second.

"I should be going," Isabella managed to look him in the eye and she held out her hand. "Thank you again."

The Native took her hand but instead of shaking like she intended, he turned it over and gently kissed her knuckles, making her cheeks officially go up in flame. "_Tekwanonwerá:tons _(welcome)."

Isabella's eyes widened and she pulled her hand away. She wasn't sure what he was saying, but she couldn't find her voice to ask. She said a hasty goodbye and quickly started to walk away, but of course, Connor couldn't resist but to charm her one last time.

"Goodbye, _keshini_. I will see you soon."

She turned to look at him, her curiosity getting the better of her. "What does that mean?"

The corner of his lips turned up into a hint of a smile. "One with beautiful hair."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, there you have it. Chapter one. Please let me know if you would like me to continue or not. I would very much appreciate it. Like I said, I worked really hard on it, so if you didn't like it _please_ be gentle about it. Thank you!**


	2. Heightens Each Sensation

**Okay! Okay. Ive decided to keep updating this story. I have too many plans to just abandon it. Anyways, thank you so much to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. i appreciate it so much! If it isn't an inconvenience, please review for this chapter as well. Thank you.**

**Oh, and I forgot to mention that the Story title is taken from Andrew Lloyd Webber's song "All I Ask Of You" from his musical _The Phantom of the Opera_. And the chapter titles are taken from the lyrics of "Music of the Night". Just wanted to disclaim that real quick!**

**Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one. **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two**

Isabella walked in her front door, breathless and flushed. She closed the door quickly and leaned her back against it letting out a long sigh as she wiped the sweat off her forehead.

"_Isabella_!" Her father roared, stomping into the foyer. His face was contorted into a combination of worry and utter rage, sending chills down the young woman's spine. She was in big trouble. "Where the _hell_ have you been?! Sunny comes galloping home in a frenzy with you not on his back! I thought you were dead!"

"Father, please-"

"It is dangerous for a lady such as yourself to out alone at this hour!"

"Father-"

"Where were you? I demand to know!"

Isabella gulped. "I...I went for a ride and Sunny spooked. I fell off." She shrugged her shoulders to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal.

"And it took you this long to get home? Sunny came back nearly an hour ago!" John shook his head in anger. "Never mind, then. You are no longer allowed to ride alone!"

Isabella's heart stopped. "Father, don't be ridiculous. People fall off all the time."

Her words had no effect on the man before her. John continued to pace back and forth angrily. "No longer!"

"Then who is to take me?" Isabella was furious now. How dare her Father take away her freedom? "You're never home anymore! You're always at that damn tavern-"

"_Watch_ your language, young lady."

"-avoiding me as if I have the Black Plague! What is wrong with you? Why are you never here?"

John's face softened. "Sweetheart-"

"_Don't_..." Bella's fists bawled at her sides and she squeezed her eyes shut in attempt to calm herself. She was on the verge of having a melt down, which she didn't have the energy to do. "Just...don't."

"Bella..." John took a step closer. "I'm here, Bell."

"No you're not." She took a deep breath and sat on the bottom stair, placing her face in her hands. "And even when you are here, you're not _here_. What has changed, father? Before we moved to this New World, we were closer. I feel as if you are drifting from me."

John sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking off into the distance as if he was in deep thought. After a long pause, he sighed and started to walk in the direction of the kitchen, shaking his head in sadness. "Go to bed, Bell."

Isabella was taken-aback. Her father had never brushed her off in such a manner, even in fights worse than this. He always was there to console her no matter what, but right now, she felt as if she was truly alone.

* * *

It had been a week since Isabella had met the mysterious Native, and he was all she could think about. Even though she really should be worried about mending her relationship with her father, Connor was ever present in her busy mind. The woman tried doing things around the house and in town to try to distract her, but it failed each time.

On this particular day, Isabella decided that dress shopping would do the trick. She roamed around the dress shop aimlessly, grazing her finger tips against the soft, beautiful fabrics. Her hand stopped when it landed on a beautiful blue silk gown with white lace accents. It literally took her breath away.

"It's a beauty, ain't it, Miss Calhoun?" The old woman who owned the shop, Elizabeth, stepped up next to Isabella to admire the gown along with her.

Isabella's eyes remained fixated on the beautiful dress. "Yes. I think I will take it."

Elizabeth smiled brightly and took the gown to the front desk, where Isabella eagerly set the money down on the counter while the old woman put her new purchase in a box. "Here you are!"

The blonde smiled and took the box and said a quick goodbye while walking out of the quaint shop into the summer heat. She hurried through town towards her house, occasionally bumping into someone along the way.

As Isabella turned a corner, she ran into a hard chest, letting out an exasperated cry as she dropped the box. She immediately bent down to pick it up, sending a silent prayer to God that the dress didn't fall out.

"I apologize, _keshini_."

Isabella's body froze and she blushed, immediately recognizing the voice and face that haunted her every thought. She slowly stood up from the ground and surprised herself by being able to look him in the eye. "Connor, what a surprise. It's...it's good to see you."

Connor's eyes widened in shock for a second before turning back to their emotionless stare. "Likewise. Is your package in tact? I can replace it if I must."

Isabella's stomach fluttered as she looked at him. He was wearing the same robes he wore when they first met, and his hood once again pulled over his head. She quickly averted her attention elsewhere when she realized she was staring. "Uh...that won't be necessary, but I appreciate the offer."

Connor smirked. He liked how he made her so nervous. He hadn't had that much of an effect on a woman before. "You look lovely."

The blonde blushed and glanced down at her green, satin gown with gold trimming. Her hair was down in its loose curls, framing her rosy cheeks perfectly. "Thank you." They stood in silence for a few moments before she spoke up once more. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon."

Connor smiled warmly. Little did she know that he had seen her around often, but she just hadn't noticed. "I did tell you that we would see each other again, _keshini_."

"Well yes...but..." She bit her bottom lip. _Idiot!_ She scolded herself.

He gave a chuckle, much to her horror and embarrassment. The man _knew _his effect on her, and he didn't bother hiding it. "As much as I would love to stay and talk with you, I have business to attend to."

Her heart sunk. Already?_ Don't be stupid_, she thought, _what did you expect? _"R-right. Well, I guess I'll see you soon, then."

He nodded before grabbing her hand and giving her knuckles a chaste kiss. "That you will, _keshini. Ó:nen ki' wáhi_ (Goodbye)." He gently pushed himself past her and began to walk away.

Isabella mentally slapped herself. She was always a confident woman, never to let anyone hinder her parade, but there was just something about that man. She turned around ready to stop him, but not finding him anywhere in sight. Her brow furrowed in frustration as her eyes darted around for the familiar white robe, yet finding nothing of the sort. The young woman sighed and turned back around to finish the trek to her house.

Her steps slowed as she passed the familiar tavern until she stopped in front of it completely. She sighed and made her way inside, feeling like it was more of an obligation to see her father than an actual pleasure. Promptly upon walking in, she noticed that the place was completely empty, which was highly unusual at this time of day. Her father wasn't even at his usual place behind the bar.

Isabella made her way to the back of the bar and gently set her box on the counter. "Father?" Her brow furrowed once more when no answer came. "Father?" she called a little louder this time.

"He is not here."

Isabella gasped in surprise and turned to face the voice to find Haytham Kenway. She had seen him around town but has never spoken to him. He was too intimidating to approach. "May I ask where he went off to?"

The man smiled, but it seemed forced. "He had to run an errand for me. He should be back soon." Haytham proceeded to walk over to the window that faced the street, averting his attention off of Isabella. The young blonde took the time to look at the man, and she quickly realized that his face held a great familiarity to it, but she couldn't put her finger on the source.

Suddenly feeling very awkward with the silence, Isabella decided to make her leave. "It was a pleasure to see you, Mr. Kenway."

Haytham turned to face her and she noticed how his eyes ran over her form. "You are Isabella, correct?" The girl nodded slowly. "Your father has spoken very highly of you, but words cannot compare to your true beauty."

Isabella blushed a deep shade, taken-aback by the high compliment. "Oh...well thank you, sir."

He smirked. "Please, call me Haytham."

She nodded shyly and made her way to the bar quickly to pick up her box, feeling the intense need to leave return to her. "Well, it was a pleasure to officially meet you Mr. Ken...Haytham." The woman was about to make her exit when he stepped in front of her.

"I'm sure we will be seeing each other _very_ soon, Isabella." The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine, but not in a good way.

She straightened her back, not wanting to show him how nervous he was making her feel. "I'm sure we will, Haytham."

After a moment of staring her down, he suddenly broke out into a smile and stepped aside, allowing Bella to make her escape.

* * *

That evening, Isabella's father had actually made it home for dinner, much to the woman's delight. They sat at the table and ate their dinner quietly, neither one knowing what to say to the other.

"Father," Isabella said softly, breaking the silence. "I went to your tavern today."

"Oh?" John didn't even bother looking up from his plate. "Haytham had mentioned you stopped by. I apologize that I wasn't there to see you, darling. I hope you can forgive me." He looked up at his daughter. "Actually, I hope that you can forgive me for a lot of reasons. You were right last week. I have been neglecting you and I am horribly sorry. Could you ever forgive me, love?"

And just like that, all the anger that Isabella had been harboring towards her father had washed away. His eyes looked sad and sincere, and his voice was soft and apologetic. Bella smiled and stood up, making her way to John to hug him, which he gladly accepted and returned. "Of course, father." After a long embrace, Isabella made her way back to her seat and continued to eat.

"You know," John said after a while, "Haytham seemed to take an interest in you."

Isabella nearly dropped her fork. "What?"

"Yes," John furrowed his brow. "It was quite peculiar, really. Upon returning from my errand this afternoon, he immediately bombarded me with questions."

She gulped, getting a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but covering it up with a smile. "What sort of questions?"

"Well, for one, he asked if you had a suitor-"

Isabella choked on a bit of food and quickly took a few gulps of whine to wash it down. Her father paused and looked at her curiously, and she merely waved her hand in the air for him to continue.

"-which I told him you did not."

The young woman groaned in response.

"Whatever is the matter, dear?" John questioned. "Mr. Kenway is a very respectable man in the community, and a very reasonable choice! He asked if you would join him for dinner sometime within the week, and I told him you'd be delighted."

She gaped. "You _what_?"

"Good Lord, child! You act as if it's Samuel! What is so wrong with Haytham?"

True, Haytham was not a bad looking man...for his age. The man was much older than her, and that made her cringe. "He's...he's old, father."

John sighed. "Darling, you cannot be so picky. You are twenty years old. You need to seriously consider finding yourself a suitor."

"But-"

"No 'but's', Isabella Marie Calhoun," her father said harshly. "You will have dinner with Haytham, and you will enjoy yourself. He is a good man and he would take care of you. I'm not going to be around forever-"

"Well, neither is he," she mumbled, earning a glare from John.

"-and I need to die knowing that you are with someone that will take care of you."

Isabella pouted. "Father, I can take care of myself!"

"_Enough_, Isabella! You have no choice! You will give the man a chance!"

She huffed and slunk back into her chair. "Yes, father. I'm sorry."

John nodded shortly. "It's still early, why don't you go for a ride." He sent her a warning glare. "Don't make me regret letting you go alone."

* * *

Isabella knew she shouldn't have. She knew that she should have stayed far away from the woods, but of course, she and Sunny were now standing in the spot where she first met her Native acquaintance. A little part of her was disappointed that she hasn't caught sight of him, but the rational part of her wasn't surprised. The woman sighed and turned her horse in the direction of home.

"_Khwe _(Hi)."

Isabella's head snapped in the direction of the voice, immediately recognizing who it belonged to, but of course not knowing what it said. She smiled and hopped off of Sunny. "Hello."

Connor was once again leaning on a tree with his arms across his chest. "What is his name?" He motioned to the horse with a tip of his head.

"This is my horse, Sunny."

Connor took a few steps closer and gently began to pet the horse. "_Ioráhkote _(Sunny)." The Indian continued to mutter things to the horse in his native language, and Sunny in turn whinnied softly in response, as if he knew what the man was saying. Connor took a step back. "He is strong and loyal. A fine horse."_  
_

Isabella smiled and patted Sunny. "Yes he is. Thank you."

Connor nodded and turned to walk away.

"Uh...wait!"

The Native turned to face her and waited for her to speak.

"Where...where are you going?"

He shrugged. "Wherever I decide I need to be."

Isabella looked at his retreating form. She felt the need to stop him, but not knowing why. "So do you really think my hair is beautiful?" She called in attempt to halt him, which to her delight, worked.

Connor let out a laugh and turned to face her. "I would not say it if I did not mean it, _keshini_."

Isabella blushed and chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She could've sworn she saw is eyes flicker to her lip, but she couldn't be sure. "Can you teach me some of your language? I think it's quite lovely."

The Native raised his eye brow in surprise, and after a moment, he shrugged. "Okay."

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Connor and dragged Isabella into the bushes on the hunting grounds. As each animal passed by their spot, he would whisper their name to her and she would attempt to say it back.

"_Oskenón:ton,_" Connor said slowly as he pointed to a nearby deer.

Isabella giggled. "What?"

"Shh!" He scolded, making her quiet down immediately. "_Oskenón:ton_," he said, slower this time.

She cleared her throat and said a very choppy version of the word, making Connor's supple mouth twitch into a smile.

"No," he said gently. "_Oskenón:ton_."

The woman licked her lips. "_Oskenón:ton_." _  
_

"Good," Connor encouraged, making her smile. He reached down and grazed his fingers over the grass. "_Óhente_."

Isabella nodded and thought for a moment. "_Óhente_."

"Very good. You learn fast." Connor stood from the bush making the nearby deer spook and run off.

Isabella stood up with him. "It's because I have a good teacher." She winked and began walking back to Sunny. _W__here did that come from? _She thought to herself.

Just before she was about to jump onto her horse, the Native took her arm in his hand gently and together they pet the horse. "_Akoshá:tens_," he said softly, almost in a whisper.

The woman couldn't take her eyes off of him. She had only known the man for a short while, but as she looked at him, she felt a stirring inside of her that she had never felt before. She swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat before she spoke, "_Akoshá:tens._" Her voice came out more sensual than she intended, and Connor noticed, his eyes snapping to hers.

They locked eyes for what felt like hours. Isabella never before believed in love at first sight, but Connor has changed her whole perspective on the subject since day one. She didn't even know how he felt about her, but that didn't stop these feelings from creeping up. Maybe it was because he was the only person in this country she now considered a friend. She didn't know for sure, but whatever the reason, she was glad for it.

Isabella was the first to break the gaze, blushing furiously and feeling tears fill her eyes. They could never be together. Her father, hell, pretty much the whole town, hated his kind. She stuck her foot in the stirrup but struggled to pull herself on, crying out in frustration as her tears threatened to spill. Gentle hands were suddenly around her small waist and she gasped at the sensation as they lifted her up effortlessly, as if she was nothing but thin air.

As Isabella situated herself on top of Sunny, Connor took notice of her tears and he felt curious as to why they were there. "_Keshini_? _Oh niiawenhátie_? What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Isabella shook her head furiously and let out a forced laugh, mostly to cover up the sob that was built in her chest. She was so confused with her fragile feelings. She wanted to be around him very much, but it broke her heart at the same time not knowing if he felt the same, but also knowing that they would be forbidden. "No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me!" She waved her hand dismissively and attempted to leave so that she could cry to her hearts content, but Connor stopped her, obviously not convinced.

"You cannot lie to me, Isabella. No one can."

She dared to look at her new friend, who was already looking at her with an unreadable expression. He never calls her by her name, and hearing it roll off his tongue made her situation worse. "It's a private matter, but thank you for your concern." After a moment of silence between the two, she smiled as best she could. "Thank you, _Ratonhnhaké:ton_."

It was choppy and butchered slightly, but the Native was impressed none the less. He didn't think she even remembered his true name. He took her hand and pleased a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "_Lo, keshini _(You're welcome, one with beautiful hair)."

The tears came back but she was off before Connor would notice. Isabella headed for home, silently forbidding herself to ever go back, but subconsciously knowing that she would.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Still with me? Good! This might seem like it's moving kind of fast, but she _did_ fall in love with him pretty much at first sight...so...**

**I know you probably are all wondering what Connor is thinking, and that will be in the next chapter. But mostly next chapter will be focusing on Isabella and Haytham's dinner together. Betcha didn't think I was gonna pull that one on ya! Or...maybe you did... Let me know in the reviews if anyone figured it out before I said it!**

**Speaking of reviews...PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, REVIEW! It would mean so much to me. It only takes a second of your time, and I really love reading the feedback. It lets me know if I need to improve, or just keep doing what I'm doing. So please, take the time to say your peace. I would so very much appreciate it. Thank you!**


	3. Heightens Each Sensation (Connor's POV)

**Hello, once again! Just to kind of slow things down a bit, VindictusUSA gave me the idea to re-write last chapter to Connor's view of everything. I thought that was a great idea, so thank you, VindictusUSA!**

**Just kind of a side note: I was playing AC3 today, and I realized how freaking glossy Connor's lips are. Like I'm not even kidding. It's like he glosses that shit every morning. Idk. Google it and you'll see. **

**Anyways, I'm calling this Chapter 2.5 because it's literally the same thing just from Connor's perspective, which I'm SUPER excited about. This chapter is going to start from when Isabella was looking for him in the woods. It's going to be rather short, but I hope you guys enjoy! Review and let me know!**

**Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2.5**

Connor knew that he shouldn't of. He should've just let Isabella turn and go home in defeat, but something was keeping him rooted there on the branch from which he was perched. He knew she was looking for him. It was only obvious. Just as he would purposefully go to town to look for her, never to approach her, but only to watch as she went about her day to day life. Earlier today, though, he couldn't help but speak to her just for a moment.

As she sighed and turned her horse to leave, the Native hopped down from the branch as quietly as he could. "_Khwe_ (Hi)."**  
**

Isabella's head immediately snapped in his direction and she smiled once her eyes found his. She jumped off of her horse and walked towards him slowly. "Hello."

Connor's eyes landed on the beautiful Palomino before him. "What is his name?"

She smiled. "This is my horse, Sunny."

Connor took a few steps closer and gently began to pet the horse. "_Ioráhkote _(Sunny)." He strained all of his attention on the animal as he gently pet his face and whispered praises to him in his language. The Native sensed that Sunny's allegiance was strong in Isabella. "He is strong and loyal. A fine horse," he admitted, taking a step back.

Isabella smiled once more and gave her companion a loving pat. "Yes he is. Thank you."

Connor decided that now was the time to make his leave, still slightly regretting even shown himself. It wasn't a good idea to let the girl become attached, which is what was clearly happening. Connor had always been good at reading people; it was one of his many gifts. It didn't take much to figure out that Isabella was a lonely woman, and that definitely surprised Connor. She was beautiful. Men were probably falling at her feet. So why was she so lonely? Why was she so desperate for his attention?

"Uh...wait!"

The man sighed and shook his head slightly as he turned to face her.

The look on her face was torn, as if she knew that she shouldn't be inquiring, yet she just couldn't help herself to. "Where...where are you going?"

Connor shrugged. "Wherever I decide I need to be." He turned to walk away with every intention of not going back.

"So do you really think my hair is beautiful?"

Isabella's soft voice was frantic, and Connor couldn't help but laugh. He figured that she would try to stop him once more, but that wasn't how he expected her to do it. "I would not say it if I did not mean it, _keshini_." He wasn't quite sure why he gave her a pet name. Grant it, her hair truly was beautiful. He _did_ mean every word he said, but did he really have to let her know that? This girl was making him weak. Assassins such as himself do not need distractions like her, but he could not for the life of him get her golden hair and ruby lips out of his thoughts.

_And then she had to go and bite them._

Connor couldn't help but watch as she chewed her pouty bottom lip. He hadn't really any true experience with women, but _damn_ her, she stirred something up inside of him he had never felt in his life. He found himself wanting to kiss those tempting lips. Even though he had never kissed a woman,_ he wanted to kiss her_.

Isabella noticed him staring and she blushed. "Can you teach me some of your language? I think it's quite lovely."

Connor raised his brow. This girl never ceased to surprise him. _No_, he yelled in his head, _absolutely NOT_.

He shrugged. "Okay."

* * *

Not long after Connor had agreed to teach Isabella, he had pulled her into a bush at the hunting grounds to teach her some names of animals. It took her a few times, but she would eventually grasp the sense of the word and say it smoothly, as if she had been speaking it all of her life. The young woman was intelligent, and attracted Connor even more to her.

Connor pointed to a deer nearby their hiding spot. "_Oskenón:ton,_" he said softly and slowly.

The woman giggled unexpectedly, a look of confusion and amusement strewn through her features. "What?"

"Shh!" He warned, and she immediately stopped. "_Oskenón:ton_," he said again, slower this time.

Isabella cleared her throat and said a very choppy version of the word, and Connor couldn't help but smile slightly. She was trying so hard that she began to overthink everything. "No," he said gently, trying his best not to make her feel stupid. "_Oskenón:ton_."

Connor's breath hitched in his throat as she licked her lips in thought. "_Oskenón:ton_."

The Native swallowed in attempt to wet his suddenly dry throat. "Good," was all he was able to manage. His eyes quickly looked around the area for something else he could teach her; something simpler. He reached down and let his fingers graze over the soft grass. "_Óhente_."

Isabella nodded eagerly and thought a moment to herself as she digested the new word he had given to her. "_Óhente_."

"Very good. You learn fast." Connor stood from the bush making the nearby deer spook and run off. He needed to get out of there. She was too close, her sweet scent was too strong. It was suffocating him.

The blonde stood up next to him and brushed off her riding pants before looking at him and smirking mischievously. "It's because I have a good teacher." She winked and began walking back to Sunny.

_Alright_, he thought, _two can play this_.

Connor followed her to her horse and took her hand into his just before she was about to pull herself on. He guided her hand and together they began to let the horse's strong neck. "_Akoshá:tens_," he said softly, almost in a whisper.

The man could feel her eyes on him. It was as if she was at a loss on what to do and how to react. He could tell that she didn't plan on this happening, and now that it did, she wasn't sure how to handle It. He was confident he won this round.

"_Akoshá:tens._"

Then again, maybe not.

Isabella's voice was soft and sensual, as if she was coaxing a lover to her bed. Connor's gaze snapped to hers and he saw a look in her eye that he hadn't ever seen reside there in the short time he had known her. It was a mixture of shock, slight fear, and..._want_.

The blonde was first to break the gaze. Connor watched as she struggled to mount her horse, but clearly her mind was in such shambles that she couldn't even perform such an easy task as that. He decided to end her misery and he grabbed her waist, gently lifting her up just enough to where she could finish the job herself.

As she was situating he noticed that her eyes were a littler more watery than normal, and it was clear that a battle was raging within that brain of hers. As much as the Assassin didn't want to be, he was concerned. "_Keshini_? _Oh niiawenhátie_? What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Isabella shook her head quickly and let out a forced laugh. "No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me!" She waved her hand dismissively and attempted to leave, but Connor couldn't help but stop her. She was lying to him.

"You cannot lie to me, Isabella. No one can."

She looked at him with what seemed like great effort. "It's a private matter, but thank you for your concern." After a moment of silence between the two, she smiled another forced smile. "Thank you, _Ratonhnhaké:ton_."

Connor was shocked. He had no idea that she even remembered his true name. Sure it was slightly butchered, but that didn't matter to him in the least. He couldn't help himself as he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "_Lo, keshini _(You're welcome, one with beautiful hair)."

Isabella's smile fell to a frown and she practically ripped her hand from his grasp and sped off, leaving Connor alone and confused.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, not very happy with the end of the chapter, but the rest is doable. In all honesty, I had fun re-writing this, and I really hope you guys enjoyed it. PLEASE let me know! I appreciate it so much. Thank you!**


	4. Darkness Stirs

**Wow I'm really shooting out these updates. Everything is just coming to me so fast. I love it!**

**Thank you to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited my story. I cannot express with words how much I appreciate your support. It means so much to me. I hope this chapter exceeds your expectations!**

**Also if you wish to see Isabella's blue dress, the link is on my profile. **

**Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one. **

**Please, enjoy!**

**Chapter Three**

A few days had passed since Isabella had seen Connor, or rather, Ratonhnhaké:ton. She liked that name so much better; it was him. The man still plagued most of her thoughts, and she felt as if her infatuation with him grew day by day. The woman, although, had gained control of her emotions and felt completely foolish for the way she acted towards Ratonhnhaké:ton. After all, it wasn't his fault that her emotions were going berserk.

"Bella, love?" John sat across the sitting room from Isabella in his regular armchair, while she sat on the couch with a book in hand.

Isabella smiled pleasantly, setting the book on her lap. Things had been going better between the two, and she couldn't be more happy about it. "Yes, father?"

The older man cleared his throat. "Haytham came by the tavern today. He wants you to dine with him tonight."

Isabella's mouth immediately turned into a frown, but she remained silent, not wanting to upset her father.

John continued after a moment. "He expects you at his house by 5 o'clock, so I suggest you go get yourself presentable."

She groaned and fought the urge to roll her eyes, half tempted to act on her _worst_ behavior tonight in hopes that Haytham would never want to see her again.

"Watch your attitude, young lady," her father scolded. "Wear your new dress that you purchased a few days ago. I dare say that will knock the man right off his feet!"

Isabella smirked. _Now THAT would be a sight to see_.

* * *

Isabella put the finishing touches on her hair and admired her work in the mirror. Her hair was half pulled to the back of her head with stray platinum locks cascading down her shoulders. The dress hugged her in all the right places showing she had a figure, but yet it was modest, leaving much to the imagination. The woman sighed when she heard her father call her from downstairs.

"Bella, love! Haytham sent the carriage for you! Come quickly!"

Isabella let out a long sigh to gather her nerves together before she grabbed her matching clutch purse and headed out of her room and down the stairs.

John smiled with pride as his daughter came into view. "Look at you, Bell! Absolutely stunning! I dare say Haytham will be in love with you by the end of the night!"

The woman's nose scrunched up in slight disgust. "Let's hope not."

John frowned and pulled her into a tight hug. "Just give him a chance, darling. He really isn't as bad as he seems, I promise you."

Isabella sighed. The least she could do was try for her father. "Alright, father. I'll try." She gave him one last squeeze before she headed out the door without another word and into the carriage Haytham had sent for her.

The ride to Haytham's was a lot longer than anticipated. It gave her time for her nerves to really get to her. She fidgeted with her clutch, her hands shaking slightly. She honestly didn't know what to expect from this man. He was intimidating and almost leering, not seeming like one to talk a whole lot. The woman wondered if the dinner would be filled with complete silence, or if perhaps he would open up to her.

The carriage came to a sudden halt in front of a small and humble home, but beautiful in its own way. Isabella swallowed nervously as the man in question came out from his front door towards the carriage, with the obvious intentions to assist her inside. He was sharply dressed in navy blue garments with his hair pulled back into a pony-tail, held firm by a red bow.

Haytham opened the carriage door and sent her a smoldering smile, his eyes shamelessly looking her frame over as she stepped out. "Ms. Calhoun, I am delighted that you agreed to dine with me this evening. I am not worthy of the company of such an angel."

Isabella couldn't help but blush. "Please, call me Isabella, and it is my pleasure...Haytham."

He smirked and took her arm in his, leading her into the house, which was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside. The decor was of simple taste, much like her own house. Isabella immediately relaxed due to the familiar atmosphere that Haytham's house possessed. Her hand instinctively tightened its hold on his, and he shot her a knowing smirk as they entered the formal dining room.

Haytham lead her to her seat and pulled the chair for her to sit, afterwards sitting at the other side of the table from her in his own chair. "Your father tells me you like to ride."

Isabella choked in her tea. "I'm sorry?"

The smirk that seemed to _always_ plague his lips deepened, making her blush and become fully embarrassed. "Horseback ride, Isabella. You like to horseback ride, correct?"

She cleared her throat and laughed nervously. _Get your mind out of the gutter!_ She scolded herself. "Why, yes. It is one of my many passions."

Haytham's brow raised mischievously. "I intend to find out all your..._passions_."

Isabella's jaw dropped. This man had _no_ filter. She was just about to reprimand him and put him in his place, but of course the maid had to bring in the food at that particular moment. Her stomach growled as she smelled the lamb, baked potatoes, and various cooked vegetables. A servant poured red wine into her glass and she immediately took a big gulp to calm her nerves and slight resentment. She motioned for the servant to refill her glass to the brim, much to Haytham's amusement.

"Relax, love. I only jest." Haytham took a bite of his food.

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"I'm not your love."

Haytham's laughter sounded throughout the dining room. "Oh my, you _are_ a sensitive one. So easily offended. Tell me, dear," he took another bite of food and dabbed the corners of his mouth politely. "Why do you have such a distaste for me?"

Isabella chewed her bite of food before answering, sighing in distress. "I apologize. I do not mean to be so snappy. I don't know what has gotten into me lately."

Haytham's features surprisingly softened. "Is something bothering you, Isabella? Anything I can fix?"

Suddenly everything began to poor out of the woman. She had no idea why she chose to open up, but something about the way Haytham was acting now made her feel comfortable enough to. Or it could be the wine getting to her. "My father has been so distant lately. I'm so...lonely."

Haytham frowned. "You do not have any female companions?"

The young girl shook her head slowly.

The man sighed and set down his fork, taking a sip of wine. "That's partially my fault, darling. Your father has been doing a lot of work for me as of late. I promise that I shall free up his schedule for you."

Isabella was touched by his sudden kindness. "It's quite alright, but I thank you," she said, taking a bite of food. "What kind of work is he doing for you?"

Haytham chuckled. "That is a different discussion for a different day, darling."

She nodded and dropped the subject, and they both are in silence for the rest of the main course. By the time she was finished with her plate, she had had about four glasses of wine and was feeling rather buzzed. She had never been able to really hold her alcohol, and taking a few gulps on an empty stomach before she ate did no good for her.

"You know," Isabella said, feeling the filter in her brain shut off completely, "you're not as bad as I thought."

Haytham chuckled, still feeling sober as a judge. "Is that right?"

Isabella nodded. "I must admit I was dreading dinner tonight. You are a rather intimidating bloke."

The man's smile never faltered. "Well I must admit I was looking very forward to our dinner tonight."

She smirked, feeling brave and not possessing any shame. "Is that right?" The woman mocked his words.

"You are a rather...interesting and I dare say _alluring_ woman, Isabella."

Isabella felt her heart thud in her chest. Warning bells were going off in her mind, but she continued to press the man, wondering to herself just how far he would go before she would have to shut him down. "Oh, really?"

Haytham stood up and walked over to a seat that was next to her and sat rather close to her, staring as if she was his prey. "Yes, Isabella. I wish to know you."

She moved her leg slightly so their knees were touching, making Haytham stiffen. "Know me how, Mr. Kenway?"

He leaned forward to where lips were just inches apart. "In _every_ way, Ms. Calhoun."

Okay. That was enough.

Isabella pulled away and took another gulp of wine. "Well, are you going to feed me desert?"

Haytham smiled mischievously and stood. "I will see to it right away." He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two pieces of what looked like the most delicious chocolate cake she had ever laid eyes on. She outwardly moaned in delight as the plate was set before her.

Isabella stuck her finger out and scooped some frosting onto it, promptly bringing the appendage to her mouth and licking it off. She let out another satisfied "Mmmm."

Haytham pried his eyes away from her and sat back next to her, taking a bite of his own piece. "I shall send you home when we are done with this. Your father will already be upset that I let you intoxicate yourself."

Isabella shrugged and continued to eat her delicious desert. "Okay."

They ate in silence and afterwards Haytham helped Isabella stand.

"Please, Haytham," she said, slightly annoyed. "I can walk on my own."

Truth be told, Haytham knew this. He just wanted a reason to get his hands on her. She was so delicate and..._pure_. He was a selfish man, and he wanted to be the one to deflower the young bachelorette.

Patience.

They made their way out to the carriage and as Isabella climbed in, she smiled at him genuinely for the first time. "Thank you. I must admit that I enjoyed myself."

The man bowed slightly. "I would love for you to join me again soon, my dear."

"A-alright," she said hesitantly.

Haytham took her hand and kissed her knuckles, causing the blonde to freeze, suddenly being reminded of Ratonhnhaké:ton. She ripped her hand away from Haytham's lips and sat back in her seat without another word.

Haytham shut the door with a rather confused look on his face, and then Isabella was on her way home, feeling rather angry with herself.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it was so short! I just thought this was a good place to end it. Haytham is a creep. Oh well. It makes the plot more interesting I think. Let me know what you think, please! I love getting feedback. It really motivates me. **


	5. And Wakes Imagination

**This chapter kicked my ass...I re-wrote the damn thing about five times. I'm still not happy about it. I almost didn't post it but I came to the conclusion that it's never going to turn out. It's only a filler chapter anyway. **

**Enough of my 'woe is me' attitude.**

**Thank you to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited my story. It seriously means so much. Please keep it coming. **

**So here is chapter four. I hope it...suffices for now. **

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter Four**

The sun was still setting by the time Isabella made it to her house. Some, but not all of the buzz had worn off. She still had trouble thinking clearly, and as she went into her house to find her father gone once again, there was only one place she could think of retreating to. After grabbing a bottle of her father's wine, the woman mumbled to herself incoherently as she clumsily made her away out to the barn.

Still clad in her dress, Isabella managed to pull herself onto her horse bareback. As if Sunny could read her mind, he took off into the direction of the woods. The drunk blonde wasn't sure if Ratonhnhaké:ton would even be there, but it didn't matter to her. She needed peace, and the woods would bring that to her.

Isabella halted Sunny in her and Connor's spot, not even bothering to look around for him. She slid off the horse and fell onto the ground, giggling madly at her own intoxication. "You have really outdone yourself this time, Isabella," she said to herself, letting out another fit of giggles as she took another gulp of wine. Instead of standing, she remained on the ground with her legs stretched out in front of her. Her skirts have made it up to past her knees during her fall, which she didn't bother to fix, ignoring propriety as it tried to wriggle its way into her mind. **  
**

Much time had passed as she sat there. Sunny gently lay down on the ground behind her upon sensing her distress, and thus allowing the woman to use him for a backrest.

Isabella moaned and leaned back, barely able to even form a coherent thought due to the poison she had very much drained within a short amount of time. She allowed her mind to drift, soon landing on a certain Native. Smiling to herself, she felt butterflies form in her stomach, only this time they could not so much as be sated. It was a feeling she had never felt before, causing her to squirm slightly in attempt to relieve the pressure.

Isabella scowled as the "butterflies" remained.

"_Keshini_?"

Isabella startled and giggled. "Ratonhnhaké:ton!" She laughed even harder as she heard just how slurred her voice was. "I was just thinking about you."

"What are you doing?" He took some steps to close a little distance between them. "You should be home. It is getting late. Your father will be worried, I am sure."

The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes and took a swig of her wine. "He isn't even home."

Connor had just taken notice of the bottle and scowled. "Just how drunk are you, Isabella?"

"Apparently not enough," she said taking another gulp. "I can still think."

It was then that Ratonhnhaké:ton realized that something was very wrong. She was clearly drowning her sorrows in alcohol. "Is something bothering you, _keshini_? Anything I can fix?"

Isabella froze mid-swig, turning to look at Connor, who suddenly wasn't Connor at all. It was Haytham. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently before opening her eyes once more. It was Connor again, and he looked as confused as ever.

She giggled nervously. "What? A girl can't drink?"

"Not like you have. It is not proper." His eyes flickered to her exposed legs, blushing slightly before turning his head to look away.

Through her drunkenness, she noticed how uncomfortable he was with her exposure. It amused her and she laughed, causing the Native to blush a deeper shade. "My, my, Connor. You act as if you have never seen a woman before!"

He scowled and fidgeted uncomfortably.

Isabella's jaw dropped as she had a sudden revolution. "You haven't! A man such as yourself...you're so handsome...I just thought..." She giggled at his shocked expression, and as the butterflies returned to her stomach. "Maybe..." she managed to pull herself up onto her knees next to him, trailing a finger on his chest. He seemed utterly torn by her notions, stuck between smacking her hand away and allowing her to continue. "Maybe we can help each either; you and I."

No, Connor had never physically been with a woman, but he was well aware of what "helping each other" entailed. He glared at her warningly. "Isabella-"

"Oh, Ratonhnhaké:ton," she smirked. "I have never been with a man before...and who else do I trust more than you to change that for me?"

Connor grabbed her wrist and wretched it away before standing up. "You need to go home."

"Come with me."

"Isabella," he nearly growled, "get ahold of yourself. You are an honorable woman, not some wanton. I will not ruin that for you."

Isabella knew he was right. She would never in her life had asked Connor for such a thing if she were sober. However, instead of apologizing and admitting her wrongs, she grew angry and defensive. "Fine. Then I'll just find someone else!" She attempted to stand but fell with an angry cry.

Connor grew angry with her foolish comment and made no move to help the woman as she attempted over and over to stand, failing each time. "You do not mean that."

On Isabella's last fall she dropped her wine bottle causing it to shatter, and she cried out angrily. Instead of trying to get up once more, she remained on the forest floor and started to cry. "Like hell I don't," she spat angrily at him.

"You are acting like a child."

"I am not."

He rolled his eyes. "What caused you to drink so much? You do not strike me as the type."

Isabella sighed and spoke without any hesitance. "My father is trying to get me to court with a man and I do not wish to."

"You do not wish to court?"

"Well, I want to marry, but just not with whom my father wants me to." She placed her elbow on her leg and rested her chin on her hand.

Connor shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, not used to this particular situation. "Why not?"

"He's so..._old_!" Isabella rubbed her face in her hands and Connor had to keep from smiling her choice of words. "And he makes me feel quite uncomfortable."

He hesitated a moment before walking over and sitting down next to her. He had to admit to himself that this conversation intrigued him. "How so?"

She bit her lower lip and blushed. "He always looks at me like he is a starving man looking at a morsel of food. As if he...as if he wants to _devour_ me. The man has absolutely no shame, I swear!"

"Have you tried speaking with your father about it?"

"He doesn't listen. He says that 'I'm twenty years old and I need a suitor so I can't be picky'. It's aggravating. I always imagined as a little girl that I was going to be able to marry for love." Isabella looked off into the distance thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to think such a thing does not exist."

Connor remained silent for a moment. "Have you even spent time with this man? He could be a lot different than you are presuming him to be."

"Ha!" Mock amusement danced in her eyes. "I had dinner with him this evening. He allowed me to become intoxicated and then nearly kissed me! He's a dog!"

Jealousy reared its ugly head within Connor. He tried to _kiss_ her?

"That's not all," Isabella continued. "I was clearly sober enough at the time to walk out to the carriage on my own two feet but he _insisted_ on putting his hands all over me. He wants to marry me for one thing and one thing only; to get me into his bed."

Connor's cheeks immediately reddened at the thought, and he was glad she was too preoccupied to notice. "Who is this man?"

She sighed and began picking at the grass. "His name is Haytham Kenway, one of the most respected men in town. I ran into him at my father's tavern the other day and now he's interested in me apparently."

Connor froze and his eyes widened in shock. "Haytham Kenway?"

Isabella snapped her gaze to meet his. "Yes. Do you know him?"

The Native cleared his throat and looked away from her. "We have...met, yes."

"Sorry to hear that," she half joked. "He seems charming, but I just get this really bad feeling about him. Like he's up to something."

He nodded shortly but remained silent.

Isabella was silent for a moment. "Do you...do you come into town often?"

Connor shrugged. "Yes."

"You should come visit me."

He looked at her warily. "Your father-"

"-Is never home," she interrupted. "At least not during the day. Come tomorrow after lunch! I'll make you my famous peach cobbler. You'll love it."

"I do not think-"

"Please?" Her bottom cherry lip pooched out into a pout.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Isabella broke out into a huge smile. "Oh, Connor that's wonderful! You won't regret it, I promise."

The Native sighed and stood up. "Come now, we should get you home."

"We?"

"You are in no state to do it yourself. I will take you to just by your house and then I will leave." He reached his hand out to her to help her stand.

"My, my. What a gentleman!" Isabella took his hand and he pulled her up. The alcohol rushed to her head making it spin, and she had no choice but to put her weight against him.

Connor sighed. "You are worse than I thought. I'm going to have to help you into your house."

"My father-"

"I can handle him, _keshini_. Do not worry about me." Connor lifted Isabella onto Sunny and then climbed up on top behind her. "Are you able to tell me where you live?"

Isabella laughed and leaned back against him. "Yes." She suddenly turned her head and smelled his arm, letting out a sigh. He smelled of pine, masculinity, and sweat. "You smell good."

Connor urged the horse forward towards the town. "Um...thank you."

She giggled. "Do I smell good?"

He instinctively pressed his nose to her hair gently and breathed in deeply. Lilacs and vanilla mixed with red wine. "Yes," he admitted.

They were silent the rest of the trip besides Isabella telling Connor where to go. The man was mildly aware of her small body pressed against his, but he tried his best not to think about it. His job now was to get her home safely, not think about how right it felt to have her against him.

Finally her house was in sight. Connor guided the horse to the porch steps to take her inside before he would put the horse in the barn for her. Sighing as he realized she had suddenly fallen asleep, he took her into his arms and slid off of Sunny, then adjusting her so that he was holding her bridal style. There was no source of light inside the house indicating that it was empty, much to Connor's relief. He was in no mood to deal with an over-protective father who would quickly jump to conclusions.

Connor walked up to her front door and cradled Isabella in one arm to try the door handle, finding it open. He walked into the dark house and immediately went upstairs with the intention of just putting her in her bed.

After searching through the bedrooms, Connor found the one that was most likely to be hers. He walked to her bed and gently lay her down, and he couldn't help but brush a stray platinum lock out of her face.

Isabella looked like an angel. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight that came through the window and her hair looked white. Connor couldn't help but stare at her for a moment. He suddenly remembered what she said earlier, about his _father_ trying to win her hand. He scowled. The blonde was unaware of the fact that Haytham was Connor's father, but the Native knew in the back of his mind that she would find out soon enough. Just not right now.

Connor reached down and brushed a knuckle against her cheek one last time. "_Ó:nen ki' wáhi, keshini_ (Goodbye...)."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay. I don't really have any words for this. Just let me know what you think. Thank you. **

**I HATE filler chapters. **


	6. Silently the SensesAbandontheir Defenses

**Another sort of filler chapter for you guys. This one I had a lot easier time writing though. I enjoyed this chapter a whole lot more, and I'm confident you guys will like it too. A lot happens. **

**As always, thank you so much to the loyal people who review. I love getting the feedback. It helps keep me motivated. Also to those who took the time to follow and favorite; thank you. That means so much. **

**Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one. **

**Warning/Apology: If you are Native American, some things that are said in this chapter may offend you. I'm sorry if that happens, but I only use it because it's what happened in history. I would not put it in my story if it didn't have a point. So I apologize in advance if you are offended.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 5**

Isabella groaned. Her head hurt.

Her head hurt a _lot_.

She opened her eyes and immediately flinched away from the sunlight that shone through her window. "Damn," she muttered, clutching her head in her hands.

Isabella lay in her bed for a few moments trying her hardest to remember anything about last night. She remembered getting home from Haytham's, grabbing a bottle of wine and heading out to the woods. Then there's was drinking - _lots_ of drinking - and then Connor...

"Oh...oh, _shit_." The woman moaned in misery. She practically threw herself at him with legs spread and no amount of shame. Although, through it all, she came to admire the man more. The fact that he didn't take advantage of her when she threw herself at him 'with legs spread and no amount of shame' was definitely admirable.

But how _embarrassing_. Seeing him today isn't going to be easy.

Isabella managed to make herself stand and get ready for the day. Not wanting to deal with a dress at the moment, she threw on some comfortable breaches and a looser shirt for the tme being. If she decided to go out later after Connor was gone, she could always change.

After brushing her blonde locks and washing her face, Isabella made her way downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet and an egg from the icebox. Upon cracking the egg and dumping it into the glass, she through the egg shell away and downed the yolk, wincing at the taste and texture. Father said it always helped with his headaches from a heavy night if drinking, so the young woman decided that it wouldn't hurt to try the remedy.

Suddenly remembering that she promised Connor to make her famous peach cobbler, Isabella promptly began to pull out the ingredients and tools needed for the home cooked treat. After mixing the invredient's together and putting it in the pan, she went to go start the wood burning oven and realized that there was no wood chopped. Her head fell back and she groaned, not really feeling up to chopping any wood with this splitting headache, but knowing she had to.

A promise is a promise after all, and it's the least Isabella owed the Native for taking care and making sure she got home safetly.

A sudden knock on her front door brought her back from her pity party and she hurried to open it. She smiled as Connor came into view. "Hello, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I was just going to chop wood for the stove. Care to join me?"

Connor took a moment to look Isabella over. She had light circles under her slightly bloodshot eyes. Her hair was a bit frizzy and she didn't take the time to put on proper woman's clothing. Despite all of these what would be flaws, she still looked beautiful to him.

He must have stared too long because Isabella cleared her throat uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. "I...um...I must thank you as well as apologize. My behavior last night was...unacceptable. Actually, that's kind of an understatement." She laughed nervously but stopped when Connor remained serious. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, many men would have probably taken advantage of me in my state. I thank you for not doing so. You are an honorable man, Connor."

The image of Isabella attempting to seduce him popped into Connor's head unexpectedly. He shook the image out of his head. "_Tekwanonwerá:tons_." Her brow furrowed in confusion and he chuckled. "It means 'welcome'."

Isabella smiled brightly before slipping on shoes and stepping outside. "You really must teach me more of your language, Connor. But for now, I have wood to chop."

Connor chuckled again and grabbed her forearm gently. "Allow me."

"Really, you don't-"

"I insist." He peeled off his white coat and set it on the porch railing before he walked over to the wood pile and axe. Isabella shrugged and sat down on the porch steps to watch, not really knowing what else to do.

Ratonhnhaké:ton proceeded to chop the wood effortlessly, as if he was chopping air instead of logs. It amazed Isabella how much strength he seemed to possess, both inside and out. After a while of sitting in the sun, she started to sweat. It was a rather warm day out, and Isabella wondered how he managed to walk around with all of those clothes on.

The young woman didn't have to wonder for long though.

Ratonhnhaké:ton promptly took off the white shirt that he had on under his jacket, revealing his very toned physique. Isabella audibly gasped at the sight, silently thanking Jesus that he wasn't close enough to hear her.

Truth be told, Connor had the body of a god.

Isabella watched him shamelessly as he finished the last of the wood and picked it up, carrying it to her. Something in her brain reminded her to function and she stood up a little too fast making her head spin. She stumbled to the side and fell into the post, and Connor immediately dropped the wood on the ground and rushed to her aid.

Ratonhnhaké:ton's strong, and very muscular, arms wrapped around her waist to help steady her. "Are you alright?" His eyes searched her face for any signs of distress

Meanwhile, Isabella's biggest problem was forming a coherent sentence. All she could think about was his hard body pressed against hers. "I-I'm fine! I just...stood up too fast I guess." She laughed nervously and pulled away from his embrace rather reluctantly.

The Native nodded and began to put his shirt and coat back on. Isabella almost whimpered in disappointment. He picked up the wood and waited for the woman to lead him back into the house, having s hard time keeping his eyes off of her swaying hips.

Connor was having problems of his own. His pants had considerably grown tighter upon having the woman pressed against his body. He mentally chastised himself for thinking such things; things that he really hadn't had all that much knowledge about.

They made their way into the kitchen and Isabella gently took the wood out of Connor's arms, smiling shyly. After starting the fire, she slid the pan into the stove and turned to face him. "That will take quite a while. In the meantime, do you want something to drink?"

"Water," was all Connor managed to say as he sat in a nearby chair at the kitchen table.

Isabella hastily acquired him a glass of the liquid, as well as herself one, and sat on the chair across from him. "Thank you for chopping that wood for me. It would've taken me twice as long!"

Connor smirked. "_Tekwanonwerá:tons._"

She smiled and felt proud of herself for remembering what they meant. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her front door opening.

"Bella, love!" John called from the foyer, causing Isabella's heart to stop.

Connor made a move to leave but Isabella got up and stopped him. "No, stay," she whispered. "There is no reason why you cannot be here. You are my friend."

"Bella? Who are you talking-" John dropped a bag of groceries that he had in his arms when his eyes landed on the Native. "Isabella Marie, what the _fuck_ is going on here?"

"Daddy," Isabella turned on her overly sweet voice that she used when John became unbearably angry with her, which wasn't often. "It's okay. I invited him here-"

"Why?" He growled, never taking his eyes off of Connor.

Isabella put herself in between the two so that her father was forced to look at her. "Because he's my friend, daddy. My very good friend. He-"

"You're _friends_ with this savage?!"

"Father!" Isabella hissed. "Do not speak of him that way! He is a good man! He's-"

"-A savage! His kind attack is and kill our men!"

"What do you expect them to do, father?" Isabella roared angrily, silencing the man. "We were the ones who came trumping into _their_ home in the first place! What did you expect them to do? Just stand there and watch? Is that what you would've done back in England if someone tried to take our home? Would you have just let it happen?" She pointed an accusing finger at John. "No! You would've fought till your last breath! Just like what his people did! They are fighting for what is _theirs_!"

John's eyes widened at her sudden outburst but remained silent. His nostrils flared with pent up anger and his fists clenched and I unclenched at his sides in order to contain himself. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen and out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Isabella let out a breath she wasn't aware that she was even holding and turned to face Connor. He had an unreadable yet calm look on his face. "I'm so sorry Ratonhnhaké:ton. Don't listen to anything-"

"Thank you."

"What?"

"No one has ever done that for me before, so thank you."

Isabella's heart melted. "No one?"

He shook his head.

Tears filled her eyes and she leaned down, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "You're a good man, Ratonhnhaké:ton." She pulled back and took Connor's face into her hands. "Do not let anyone tell you different."

Connor remained still, allowing the girl to attempt to comfort him.

Isabella pulled away and smiled. "The peach cobbler," she said, reminding herself. She walked over and pulled it out of the oven and Connor's sense of smell immediately heightened.

He had to admit; it smelled _delicious_.

They both ate their cobbler in silence and Isabella cleaned up the mess immediately afterwards. "Anything else I can get you?"

Connor shook his head and stood, getting ready to take his leave. "No. I appreciate your hospitality, but I must be going."

Isabella followed him as he walked to the front door. "Will you be back?"

He smirked. "If you so wish. _Ó:nen ki' wáhi, keshini_."

She watched his retreating form from the front doorway. "_Ó:nen ki' wáhi_."

* * *

Isabella became increasingly worried as the day wore on into evening. Her father had not returned, and she feared the worst. She did not regret anything she had said, however. Every word that came from her mouth was of the heart.

That night, the young woman was just about to give up waiting for her father and go to bed when someone came in the front door. Isabella jumped to her feet from the living room couch and hurried to the foyer. "Father-"

But it wasn't her father. It was Haytham. "Your father is at my house. He wanted me to report to you that he will not be coming home this evening."

Isabella blinked in surprise. "What? Why?"

Haytham sighed and took a few steps closer to her. "He did not tell me what had happened, but he did tell me how upset he was with you. Pray tell, my dear, what exactly happened?"

The woman sent him a warning glare. "I'm afraid that that is none of your business."

He chuckled darkly. "Of course you are right, my darling."

Isabella turned and walked to the kitchen, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Will that be all then, Mr. Kenway?"

"Ah," He sighed, following her. "Back to surnames, are we?"

"Will that be all?" She asked again sharply as she turned to face him.

"No, actually." He placed his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. "When your father came he was highly distressed and worried for your safety."

"My safety?"

He ignored her inquiry. "Your father is sick."

"My...he...what?"

"He has been for a while now."

Isabella trembled and sat at the kitchen table. "Why didn't he tell me?" She whispered.

Haytham sighed and sat across from her. "John did not want you to worry until he knew for sure. He visited the doctor this morning."

"I-is it serious?"

"I'm afraid so, darling." He reached across and placed his hand on hers. Isabella made no move to pull her hand away. She didn't have the energy. "Your father and I came to an agreement." Haytham paused before he continued. "John came by this afternoon to ask me to have you in marriage."

Isabella's eyes snapped to meet the older man's. "W-what?"

"It is for your protection."

"My pro-...I never agreed to this!"

"It isn't your choice, darling."

"It's Ms. Calhoun," she growled.

Haytham smiled. "For now." He stood from the table and left the house without another word.

Isabella burst into tears.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: DUN, DUN, DUUUUNNNN! So, Isabella wants Connor, John is sick which led to Isabella's engagement, and Haytham is freakin' me out. Anyways, so the game plot is going to come into play a little bit within the next couple chapters. Isabella will soon find out about Haytham and Connor. It's going to be good. Hopefully. Please review and let me know what you think. It doesn't take much of your time and I REALLY appreciate it. Thank you!**


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